


The cage we call our Home

by Lajoco712



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Teen Angst, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lajoco712/pseuds/Lajoco712
Summary: The teenage years of the Ares Street Kings were bleak to say the least. Narin City held their secrets tightly in its web of metal buildings. The time to make a choice was coming. Who would they become if they left this life behind? Who would they become if they stayed?
Relationships: Goliath/ Slim, Torra/ Quincey
Kudos: 7





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Hello People, 
> 
> I really needed something to do during quarantine. So I decided to write this (please be kind) It just sorta all flowed out so I am working with what I have bouncing around in my brain.
> 
> Really I fell in love with Midnight Poppy Land on Webtoon. But I'm one of those people who wants the back story to everyone (The english major in me) and we don't yet have that! So here is my backstory so far for Torra, Quincey, and how they came to know Poppy. It starts off whenever they are 17 years old. Still just hanging out as Ares Street Kings working for Alice as bus boys in the restaurant. It will eventually get into how Vincent got Torra into the family, and the training he goes through. The story will also cover the fallout with Goliath, and the love/ loyalty he has for Quincey. I did add two characters just because we need female friends/ sisters etc. I promise no one would ever replace Poppy for Torra so before anyone shoots it down based on that give it a go. I hope you love it.

The grey light filtered through the window before his alarm clock rang. The rain drops falling lifelessly against the window. He was up already, staring at the ceiling. White with some sort of scrolled figure eight detail etched into the plaster. He traced the scrolls with his eyes. Torra couldn't figure out if he was trying to convince himself of sleeping longer or giving in to the idea that no matter how much sleep he had it wouldn't make much difference. 

He had spent the past three days in the cage. He was allowed back into his bedroom last night only on the count of Balthuman knowing he had to work this weekend at the restaurant. Alice’s restaurant. Alice and her son Joe had become a constant in his life. Alice had always been kind to him, and the three others who worked there with him from the delinquent center. There was Golliath, Slim, Paige, and whenever he felt like showing up Quincey. 

A hard knock on the door brought his thoughts to life. Quincey had a hard time showing up to work, but to Torra’s bedroom he was no stranger. The door opened and there he stood. Blonde, skinny, and arrogant to the world’s problems. “Morrrrninnng Sunshine” Quincey 16 years old cooed at him. He looked as though he was dressed for some sort of tropical vacation. His Hawaiian shirt freshly pressed, and open at the last two buttons on top. Khaki shorts, Sperry's and the smell of Axe body spray lingered in the air wherever Quincey roamed. Rolling his eyes Torra managed to pull himself out of bed. “Morning Qince”. “ “Dad says that its raining so he will take you to work personally. Besides he has to collect rent from Alice”. Torra says nothing in response, but his eyes spoke for him. 

Torra hated the idea of Balthuman speaking to her. But it was no secret that Alice wasn't afraid of him. Alice was older, early 70’s. She kept a gun under the bar and Joe, her son was a cop. However that meant little from this side of things. Balthuman hated cops and was well known for more than a few of their disappearances over the years. Alice’s place was on the edge of Ares district. She had owned it before Balthuman’s clan took over power on that side. She had refused to leave it. Balthuman had accepted her for what she was, her own immovable force. He sent Torra to collect from her on more than one occasion which eventually ended with him being her bus boy. Working there at least guaranteed him a meal that wasn’t dependent on how obedient he had been during the day. 

It was then that Torra realized that Quincey was still talking. More to himself than to Torra. He looks over in his direction to see him standing at his desk, peering into a mirror which was mounted above it at his own reflection. Torra interrupts him with a blunt. “Quincey, I need to get ready for work. I’ll be down in 15.” Surprised by how quickly he stood he bounces with a quick nod and shut the door. Only to re open it to ask if Torra knew if Slim would be working today. Truthfully he wasn't sure. Slim was about as consistent as Quincey. Though it was probably more to avoid Quincey than the actual work. 

She was one of the only girls in the group from the center. Slim was not the average girl next door. She was pretty, and had gained respect from the Ares Street Kings by putting someone in place if needed. More times than not that was the boys in the group. Torra reflected on the first time he had met her. Long brown hair in a messy ponytail, her knuckles bleeding, scrapped up elbows, and jeans torn at the knees. She walked into Alice’s and placed a five coin on the counter. Alice quickly brought her a glass of water and began to wrap her hands. “You gotta stop fighting those boys, good girls don't fight” after a big gulp of water she looked at Alice with a small defiant smile. “ I ain't here to be good, I’m here to prove a point”. To this day Torra had no idea what point that was.

He laughed at the thought of her back then. She had grown in the ranks the past 3 years that he had known her. She had grown in Quincey’s eyes too. Being infatuated with things he couldn't have, he had sworn his love to her over walks home or to the market. Attempting his luck on quick kisses here and there only to be quickly swatted or kicked. Slim making it clear to Quincey that she would never belong to any Balthuman boy. Torra hoped that she would be able to escape them one day, he hoped they all would.

The Balthuman mansion had been his home now for the past 10 years. The white walls and marble tiles were one of his first memories of arriving at the mansion. The doors, a solid dark walnut, and pictures of previous Balthuman men lined the main hallway. A castle was the only word he could think of when he had first arrived.

Being only 6 years old at the time. Torra was excited at the idea of living here. Back then anything was better than his current situation. The foster home where he stayed was an old double wide trailer, roach infested with tattered floors and blankets. The memories blurry, only truly coming forward whenever he was in a deep enough sleep to dream. He avoided them like the plague. His past was almost as haunting, as the idea of going back to the cage. He thought about that for a few moments before sighing. He would pick the cage over his nightmares. At least that was predictable. 

The lighted mirrors in his bathroom showed the result of the past 3 days. At least he wouldn't be showing up with a black eye today. The bruises he would be hiding were along his shoulder blades. Long and deep. The impression from the metal rod could still be made out. In Torra’s mind he could still hear the sound before he felt the sting. The cackle and crack the bar would make against his skin. The rattle of loose bone would echo in his brain. Then the pain, he had learned that whimpering and begging for it to end only made it last longer. 4 hits was about as much as he could take from the bar, lucky for him 4 hits was all Vincent Balthuman could normally take out before panting and landing a swift kick in Torra’s side. 

He sighed as he turned on the hot water. He prayed Slim wouldn't be there today. She always somehow knew when he was hurting. If Slim knew that meant Alice did too. He didn't need the girl's pity.

He didn't need anyone’s pity for him at all.


	2. TWO

The dining room in the mansion was one of the biggest rooms and lit by a large chandelier over the table. Multiple windows lined the room from floor to ceiling with filling it with natural light. At one time he had managed to count out at least 57 crystals before being distracted on a question about his school work. Torra pulls out his usual chair and waits. Vincent could be heard down the hall yelling on the phone to one of many possible employees. Quincey sits across from him, pouring orange juice and asking one of the maids for seedless grapes. Torra’s plate sat empty seeing how lifting his arms for the toast in front of him only brought a reminder of the bruises across his back. As if on cue in walks Balthuman patting Torra hard on the shoulder before taking his place at the head of the table. “Sleep well”? He asks barely looking in Torra’s direction to which Torra responds plainly “yes sir”. 

The breakfast course passes in all of twenty minutes. Quincey and his father babble back and forth about the most recent football game that was on the night prior. Then standing and nodding to Torra that its time to go. Vincent walks past him over to a skinny blonde woman waiting on the stairwell. Cladly dressed in a black lace nightgown after what one could only guess was her evening attire from the night before. Out of the corner of Torra’s eye there's Quincey, his face suddenly sour as he looks past him towards her. 

Quincey had not handled the sudden death of his mother well. Her apparent suicide had not convienced him nor Torra. “Her jump from the stairwell isn’t possible! she's afraid of heights.” Torra remembered the conversation they had on the way to school. The tears running down Quincey’s face. Tora had remembered the sight of her more. Mrs. Balthuman laid on her side, with red ooze and her arms sprawled and limp. This was a few years back now. Balthuman had remained mournful for all of five months before a selection of different women began staying multiple evenings throughout the week. Mrs. Balthuman had been erased from the home. Pictures, furniture she had picked, even the chandelier had been changed. The only thing left of her was Quincey. 

Torra looks at Quincey briefly before asking if he was going to work today. He does this to break his stare from the couple. “It's Saturday, it will be busy.” Quincey shrugs him off “I have Jean Claude coming over today for my French lesson but please tell Alice Bonjour for me.” His smile was smug. He proceeds to raise his hand to acknowledge Torra leaving in a quick thanks but no thanks fashion. Taking what strength Torra has left to not roll his eyes he heads to the front door where Vincent and his lady of the night stand bidding each other goodbye. 

Torra, walking swiftly past them looks straight down at his feet as he walks. He ignored the feel of their gaze as he passed. He had made the mistake once before. Looking at the women was forbidden. Master Balthuman had caught him once and beat him to where he couldn't see out of his left eye for a week. This was not a test he would fail. It was not a mistake he would make again.

Twelve large marble tiles later and he was outside. The cold, rainy air taking what little hope the day held back. Rainy days were the worst days to work. It brought in one of two possible things. Everyone in Narin, or no one at all. The day would be a hit or miss for money. The worst kind of day to have according to Vincent.

Torra looks down from the Grey sky to see the car. Vintage, black, and waiting. It was the same car that had taken Torra from his foster family all those years ago. Vincent’s vehicle of choice. He climbed into the passenger seat as Vincent put his keys into the ignition. He had been so lost in thought that he didn't notice Vincent slip past him to the other side. The engine roars to life at the turn of the key, and they set off down the road into what Torra is hoping is a fast and quiet trip.


	3. THREE

“You have such potential” Vincent chuckles as he drives. This breaks the silence that lasted all of 10 minutes, making Torra pause for a moment before turning to look at him. “I’m serious son, I’m only so hard on you because I know how good you could be.” “One day you’ll thank me”.Torra won't talk back to him, he only nods as if in agreement. This annoys Vincent but he lets it go. 

“Talk to me about that little girl you work with, the one Quincey likes what her name? Sam”? “Slim.. her name is Slim” He wants to keep this simple. Slim being one of his closest friends the less she's on Balthuman’s radar the better. “Shes cute, shes about your age. No interest there?” “I really don't think of her that way, I’ve known her for too long at this point.” “Too long eh? You’re only 17. At that age all that was on my mind was pussy.” “Didn't matter if I had known the bitch for 10 days or 10 years. If I wanted it, it was going to be mine.” Torra nods again.. But he could feel the heat in him rising. His friends weren’t things to be had. Another 10 minutes passed and the conversation had died down again before pulling up to the small restaurant. 

Alice’s restaurant looked lost in time. Its wooden door was original to its build and contrasted against the aggressive metal of Narin city. A small cherry blossom tree waits next to the entrance, and two cafe tables sit on the opposite side. The staff doesn't put out chairs on rainy days to inspire people to continue home. Even Alice hates to work in the rain. She’d rather be at Fred and Fran’s betting on the newest race horse.

Torra and Vincent step inside where of course only 3 of the 5 scheduled staff members cluster. Golliath, Slim and Paige grab their aprons and start placing out the salt shakers while Master Balthuman heads straight for Alice behind the bar. Alice sighs and looks annoyed. Although Torra can't tell if it's from Balthuman’s presence or the lack of staff. He gives her a quick nod before wandering off to stand next to Goliath and Slim to wait instruction. 

“You look tired,” Slim whispers. She had already started to analyze him the moment he walked in the door. “I didn't sleep well,” he replies with a shrug lamely as a response. Slim and Goliath side by side looked like a couple. He was several inches taller than her. They both had dark hair, Golliath was going through some sort of blue phase. Where just the tips of his hair were a dark royal blue. He’s dressed in dark grey, with black pants and beat up tennis shoes. Slim was skinny, she stuck to a rigid one meal a day diet. She did this to make sure Paige, her little sister, was getting in 3 full meals a day. Besides being skinny she had dark brown hair that went partially down her back if you ever caught her with her hair down. Normally it was wrapped into her classic messy bun. Her eyes held a smokey brown color but you wouldn't know that in an everyday meeting. Most people just saw the fury lurking below their surface. She wore a black sweater and jeans with some simple flats for shoes. Her hair today was down but he knew it wouldn't take long before she gave up and it ended up back where it always did.

They all waited quietly for Vincent to finish with Alice. He always counted the money three times in front of her. They weren’t sure if it was due to him not trusting her, or if he just wanted to waive it in her face that she was giving him money on a building that she rightfully owned. Finally being satisfied he turned his attention to the teenagers in the corner. He reached out and shook Goliath’s hand before turning his attention to Slim. She keeps her hands at her sides in defiance. “Challenge accepted” Balthuman exclaims before reaching down, grabbing her anyway. He plants a soft kiss on the back of her hand and then looks behind her to see Paige. At only age 12 Paige looks back at him with an innocent soft smile. Slim has done a good job of keeping their world locked away from her. But it was obvious with each day that job was getting harder and harder to do. “There's the little princess” Vincent says slickly and everyone except Paige can pick up on the hidden meaning. 

Slim grabs Paige and pushes her behind Goliath before she's standing almost nose to nose with Vincent. “Mr. Balthuman '' Slim says unblinking and firm. Vincent let out a loud sigh before looking Slim in the eye. “Females should be seen not heard, Children should be seen and not heard” “You my dear fall under both of these categories. You are almost old enough to be a woman, and you certainly still act like a child.” “I do hope you have thought more about my little offer, the little girl would be happier where my team could keep an eye on her.” Torra reaches for Slim’s arm to hold back what he's afraid could be a slap which would be the end of her life. She doesn't flinch at Torra’s touch, and doesn't break eye contact from Vincent either. 

Vincent chuckles before he turns sharply on his heel waving goodbye to Alice as he heads to the door. “Torra I’ll pick you up at 6:00 pm” he barks at him without so much as a glance. The door closes heavy behind him and the roar of the engine outside lets a sigh out of the room. 

Slim rips her arm out of Torra’s grasp. Breaking the silence “He is not taking her”! Her face is red and panic filled. Vincent had a side business. Little girls with broken homes were sent to be looked after. By looking after Slim knew he meant trained. Trained for prostetution, trained to be the property of the men that took them in. “No one is going to take anyone anywhere” It was now Goliath who had stepped in to calm her down. “Torra lives there, he would know if something were going to happen to her '' She looks to Torra for help and he nods back agreeing with Goliath is all he can think to do to keep her calm. But they all know that if Vincent Balthuman was planning something he would be the last to know. 

Alice walks up to the group and places a wrinkled hand on Slim’s shoulder. “These are tomorrow's troubles.” He threatens you because it gets a rise out of you. “Good girls, do not lose face over men.” She then turns her attention to Paige. “You stop smiling at strangers unless they are thanking you for change from their bills” Paige had been quietly listening still hanging on between Goliath and her sister. The child suddenly frowns back in response in a facial expression that was all too familiar to the group. 

The day was consistent and quiet after that. Torra and Goliath bussed tables while Paige helped seat patrons. Slim would work back or forth from the kitchen placing orders to running food. The group grew more aware of the day's end as the last customer paid his tab. “Good work today crew” Alice patted Torra lightly on the back only to notice him flinch at the touch of his shoulders. Slim paused before eyeing him down. “Its nothing,” Torra held up his hand in defense. “It's always nothing, I hate to see the day it becomes something” “He's going to kill you one day..” It won't get that far. He reassured her knowing it was going in one ear and out the other. 

They were deep in conversation and didn't realize that the door had opened for one final visitor. Quincey Balthuman stood tall and proud in the main waiting area. He had changed his outfit from when Torra had seen him this morning. His raincoat forest green, and his hair perfectly slicked to one side. Ignoring the rest of the group for he had seen his prize. He waltzed towards Slim as she stood next to Goliath and Torra clearly upset about something but he was too far away to hear what the conversation was regarding. 

“Hey Baby” He says calmly as he snakes an arm around Slim’s waist. This was bolder of him than usual. Something was off. Slim looks at Quincey blankly in the face before reaching down to grab his hand. She twirls out of his reach like a ballet dancer in a final scene and shoves her way past Goliath and Torra so that they are on either side of her. “Not your baby” She holds her finger pointed back at him before turning to hang her apron up for the night. 

It wasn't until then that Torra noticed Goliath holding his glare on Quincey. Had he really been so oblivious to his surroundings that he couldn't see that coming? Were they a thing? Was he about to be the only one in the group without a girlfriend. 

“Why won't you give me a chance”? He whined at her. “I am twice the man that any of these circus clowns will ever grow up to be. He looks down to see Paige staring up at him with doe brown eyes. “Mr. Quincey I love clowns”. “I bet you do”. “Lucky for you the world is full of them”.   
Goliath and Torra lock eyes before Slim is busting past them to grab her. 

“Its getting late” “I need to get her home” “We can take you” Quincey claps! Throwing Torra the keys. This was the usual occurrence. Slim looks at Torra before sighing. “You promise straight home?” “I Promise”. He felt a pinch in his chest, to promise anyone anything under Quincey’s eye was risky. He was one of his best friends, but he knew that desires had led the Balthuman men down certain paths. He hoped Quincey would be better than his Father.

But hopes and actions were different things. Very different things.


End file.
